


Hideaway

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Coraline (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-31
Updated: 2011-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a house that looked like it belonged in one of her spooky stories, but it was really an apology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hideaway

"I don't like it out here at night," Wybie complained, following Coraline with the flashlight.

"You didn't have to follow me," she said. "I'm not twisting your arm."

"You've seen one creepy house, you've seen them all," Wybie intoned, keeping close. "This one isn't any different."

"Trust me, it is," Coraline said, leading him through the woods. The house was little more than a shack, and Wybie let out a disbelieving noise. "What?"

"After all those stories of the Other place, you take me somewhere that looks just like what I think it looks like." He turned to her with a frown. "What are you? Twelve?" he asked, disdain clear in his voice. They were nineteen and both going to the local community college. Wybie didn't know what he wanted to do after graduation, and his grandmother had insisted he do something with his time. Coraline had so many things she wanted to try that her parents refused to pay money for an expensive college until she settled on one major.

"Oh, Wybie, don't tell me you're _scared."_

Wybie sighed and followed her closer, trying to keep his knees from knocking together. She seemed to have no fear of dark and spooky places, but Wybie had always felt more afraid of them. Her stories of the Other place and his Other self with the sewn lips were more frightening than they really had a right to be, though he couldn't have said why. Perhaps because it was such a spooky idea coming out of the mouth of such a pretty little girl.

Well, not so little now. The dark hides the curves of her body, which he really shouldn't be looking at. They tried dating in high school, and it hadn't worked out. Mostly because she said he was too scared of her, too talkative and hesitant in all the wrong combinations. Coraline really hadn't wanted to drag him along on all the adventures she wanted to have. Then he had said that she talked too much about nonsensical things, and that she needed to grow the hell up. It hadn't been pretty.

"I didn't mean it like that," Coraline said when Wybie didn't answer. "I mean, I _did,_ but not to be mean. I don't... See, this is why we don't work well. I'm constantly saying things the wrong way around you."

"I thought you didn't want to babysit me," Wybie replied, his voice a touch more bitter than he planned it to be.

Coraline flushed, and Wybie felt bad about that. "That's what I mean. I didn't mean it that way. The words get jumbled up. This is why I'm not a writer."

"Coraline..."

"Come on. I wanted to show you this," she said, grasping his hand and pulling him along. Reluctantly, Wybie followed. The shack looked like it was ready to fall apart if the wind blew too hard, and Wybie didn't want to set foot on the porch. But he followed her in anyway, and she turned to look at him expectantly. "Well? What do you think?"

The inside was much better put together than the outside. Wallpaper made the shack look almost cheerful, and there was an old battered couch in one corner, a desk in another and a rolling executive chair with a high back. The floors were sanded and waxed, shining in the dim flashlight beam.

"What is it?" Wybie asked, looking around. "I don't get it."

"You're a writer, Wybie," Coraline said softly. "I'm too loud and I get in the way and I say all the wrong things I don't mean. I try not to, but sometimes they all come out the wrong way. So I put this place back together to apologize, so I can say I'm sorry about all the horrible things I said. I only tell scary stories, but you tell all the good ones."

"Oh, Coraline," Wybie began with a sigh, looking around. "It's a perfect place to write."

She grinned, looking at him just like she had at the prom, when he thought he still believed in high school sweethearts. They had broken up a few months later. "I was hoping it would work out for you."

He kissed her. He hadn't meant to, but it happened anyway. She responded, startled, her eyes wide open and looking at his. It felt the same, as if there had been no breakup and no arguing, as if all the wrong words hadn't been spilled between them. "Wybie?" she asked, voice hoarse.

"Best that you don't talk right now," Wybie teased, then kissed her again.

Coraline threw her arms around him and opened her mouth beneath his. Somehow they found their way across the room, kissing all the while. Coraline fell backward into the couch, dragging Wybie down on top of her. They laugh, finding this all a little ridiculous. Their first time is going to be in a spooky house on a battered couch in the middle of nowhere when they weren't even dating anymore. Still, it seemed to fit how awkward their relationship had always been, moving in starts and stops.

They tugged off each others' clothes eagerly, looking and not looking at each other, hands exploring skin as it was bared. Coraline could feel anticipation running through her, and Wybie's fingers between her legs found her already wet and waiting for him. He kissed her fiercely then, telling her without words that they should never have broken up. Well, it was why she had renovated this old cabin anyway. Their arguments had always been stupid.

It was more about kisses and touches, so Coraline's first orgasm startled her. She was panting and slick and wet around his fingers, then she was flying apart at the seams, unraveling as if she was made of buttons and thread. Wybie kept going, nimble fingers fast over her, his mouth sliding down to her neck and chest. She was panting, saying nonsensical syllables that made him smile against her skin. She writhed, not sure what she was doing. It felt good, it was Wybie, and she came completely undone again. Wybie looked down over her, eyes shining in the darkened room. "More?" he asked, voice infinitely gentle. His fingers were still on her, in her, moving restlessly to make her breath catch and shatter once again.

"Please," Coraline whimpered, looking up at him. "Please."

It hurt when Wybie pushed his way into her, but he waited before continuing again, his fingers still sliding over her clit. Coraline whimpered and writhed, her hands running across his chest. She came again, making him hiss. He had to move; she felt too good not to, and he needed to feel more of this. He moved fast, and it was over much too soon, but they were curled in each others' arms and panting as if they had run for miles. "Wow," Wybie murmured into the curve of her neck. "So that's what everybody's talking about."

"You're getting heavy," Coraline whispered, afraid to break the mood.

Wybie pulled back slightly, propping himself up with the back of the couch. "You okay?"

She nodded and smiled up at him. "Yeah. I'm okay."

"Okay enough to do it again?"

"Most definitely." She grinned up at his soft smile. "Together again, then?"

"Never should have broken up," he said with a sigh and a nod. "You drive me crazy sometimes, Coraline."

"I don't mean to," she said, cupping his face in her hands. She drew him down for a kiss. "Forgive me?"

"Always," Wybie murmured against her mouth.


End file.
